


A pictures worth 1,000 words

by JoyBooth



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-23 20:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8341075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoyBooth/pseuds/JoyBooth
Summary: The pictures are out there, But Ginny just wants to play ball.





	1. Chapter 1

Ginny Baker was a baseball player. She had been one for 20 of her 23 years on earth, and before that she probably would have been one if someone would have just handed her a ball. There was only a short time right after the accident that she ever considered being anything else, but days like this reminded her why she had ever thought about hanging up her cleats. 

It wasn’t the pictures. Well, it was, and it wasn’t. It wasn’t because she was comfortable enough with her own body that she wasn’t exactly embarrassed. More than anything she was annoyed that everyone and their brother wanted to talk to her about it. 

Oscar had pulled her out of practice yesterday when the story broke. There was a lot of talk about breach of contract and decency clauses. Then a big guilt trip about how she was supposed to be a role model for girls coming up in the sport, which immediately brought his daughter to her mind. So yeah, there was a little guilt when pictured those girls with their I’m Next signs.

Then Amelia showed up insisting that they do a media blitz. It started with a 7pm press conference where Ginny robotically read the statement Amelia had written. Then a quiet night of self recrimination. She had to turn off her cell between calls from her mom, Will, and Trevor. The one person she really wanted to talk to, hadn’t called. She didn't want to think about why. 

The next morning Amelia was at her door at 5am with a hair and makeup crew and the most modest outfit she had ever seen, which meant she missed her morning work out. The morning was spent looking contrite and making versions of the same apology speech to nameless, faceless reporters, until the last one. A face she recognized far too well. 

Rachel Patrick sat primly on her stool and gave Ginny a look she had quickly come to hate. She called it the disappointed face, but Rachel's was more of disappointed/excited/ gleeful look.  
Amelia gave her a half hearted smile and a nod, mouthing last one sympathetically. Ginny rolled her shoulders, schooled her features and began the interview. 

It wasn’t exactly Rachel's questions that got under her skin, though they were sharper than most. There was just something about the red head that had always rubbed her the wrong way. When the interview was over, Ginny jumped to her feet, she was already late for practice, but Rachel grabbed her arm.

“We thought you were the one Ginny. You really let us down,” she sighed. 

Ginny yanked her arm away as if she had been burned. “You let yourself down,” she growled, before storming away. In the car Amelia tried to calm her, but she just put her headphones on. She just wanted to play baseball. 

When they pulled up to petco, a throng of reporters and protesters were waiting for them.

“I thought you said it wasn’t that many?” Amelia screeched at Eliot.  
“It wasn’t an hour ago, I swear,”

“An hour ago, isn't now, if you can’t do your job I will find someone who can!”

Meanwhile Ginny studiously avoided looking out the windows. What she couldn’t see, couldn’t hurt her. She just needed to get inside and start playing baseball, the sooner the better. The door opened and she was rushed into the building, but she did hear several hateful slurs over music blasting in her ears. The door closed behind them, and she thought she would feel calmer, but the sinking feeling in her stomach only got worse. 

Jim, the doorman for the clubhouse, wouldn't make eye contact. Amelia tried to say something, but Ginny waved her off. 

“I'm going to go do my job, you go do yours.” 

She could hear the commotion in the locker room as she got closer. Blip came out still in his street clothes. 

“What's going on?” She asked. 

“Nothing, you want to go grab a coffee real quick?” He asked, blocking her way. 

“What's gotten into you Sanders? I'm already late, move!”

She went to go around him, but again he blocked her path. 

“Blip, stop!” She growled, pushing past him into the locker room. The sight that met her eyes was, not exactly surprising, but still shocking. The entire locker room was papered with copies of the leaked pictures. 

Her throat dried up. Whistles and catcalls echoed in her ears. Then miller stepped out holding a stack of pictures. 

“Look who it is, Ginny Baker, in… well nothing really,” he grinned as he eyed the picture and then her as if mapping the picture onto her physical body. “She may not date ballplayers but she sure doesn't mind doing everything else with’em.”

Ginny looked around the room at the people who she thought were becoming her friends. Some looked ashamed, but most were either curious or down right lustful. Her eyes sharpened as she turned back to Miller. She could tell he was hoping she would cry. She would just crumble and he would go back to being the star pitcher for the Padre’s. Instead, her eyes narrowed. 

“You want see me?” She growled, taking off her coat and throwing it at him. “You really want to see me?” Her shirt came off next, revealing a giant bruise on her hip from a slide into home two days ago. 

“Ginny, stop,” Blip called from behind her, but she completely ignored him focusing all her rage on glaring at Miller, as she slide her pants down her legs. The bruise continued down her leg almost to her knee. 

“Is this what you wanted, Miller? Is this enough? Can I just do my fucking job now? Or do you want to stare a little more?” 

Miller looked away as she came towards him. 

“Just remember that I may have come up for one game, but I'm still here and my big bubble butt and 3.0 ERA, is a lot better than you scrawny ass 5.5.” Then she turned scooped up her clothes, and headed to closet she used to change. “If any of you idiots feel like playing baseball, I’ll be on he field!” 

“I'll get’em down, Gin,” Blip said as she passsed.

“Don't bother!”

She passed Skip in the hall, but he had his nose to a clipboard and only acknowledged her with a vague, “You’re late, Baker.” 

She smiled to herself, at least one person wasn't treating her like a girl. “Won't happen again, Skip.”

“See that it doesn’t.” 

She had been on the field running laps for a few minutes when Blip jogged up to her.

“I'm sor…”

“Don't, either run or find somewhere else to be. I only want to talk about the game,” she snapped, picking up speed. 

Blip shook his head, but sped up. “I think we should work on catching Blackmon between 2 and 3.”

“I've been watching tapes, and I was think we will surprise him if we let him think he can go for home. He gets sloppy.” 

“You think Lawson can catch him?”  
“I think the old man still has some tricks up his sleeve.” 

“I felt my ears burning, Baker, you sayin’ nice things about me?” Lawson teased as he ran to join them. 

“Never! Where you been old man? Did you fall outa bed and have to use your life alert?” 

“Na, I swung by the preschool to pick you up, but they said you got a ride.” 

Ginny bit back a smile and the rest of the team trickled onto the field. Some tried to apologize, some looked contrite, but she ignored them all and enjoyed the burn of a hard practice.


	2. Mike's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other side of things...

Mike Lawson was a ball player. He had been for 30 of his 36 years on earth. He had only ever considered giving it all up once, as he packed his clothes the night he caught his wife in bed with another man. Then the doctors said it wasn’t up to him anymore. He never thought phase two would be ushered in by a girl with soft eyes and a hard heart. 

When Oscar showed up on the field, he knew something was up. He was running pitches with Miller, but he still saw the way she flinched when Oscar approached. Her posture was sudden ram rod straight. She was in full robot mode. 

He expected them to exchange words. He didn't expect for her the follow Oscar off the field. 

“What's that about?” He asked, not really directing it at anyone, but still hoping someone would answer. 

“No idea, maybe they are sending her back where she belongs,” Miller joked.

“And where exactly would that be, Miler?” 

“Come on Lawson, we all know she is a publicity stunt. You said it yourself. Chicks don’t belong in the big leagues. She had her 5 minutes of fame and now she’s going back to triple A to ride out her days as a has been.”

Mike wanted to say that it was fear of his own career status that made him react, but deep down he knew there was more to it. He threw the ball at Miller, pegging him in the shoulder. Then marched up to the little weasel. 

“I hope to god you’re wrong, Miller, because that chick is the only pitcher on this team who has what it takes to get us a pennant this year!” That said, Mike left the field. Practice was lost over. Skip wouldn’t say anything to him about missing the last 15 minutes. 

After an ice bath and an hour with the physical therapist, the only things he wanted to do were eat and sleep, in that order. He picked up take out on the way home. His phone pinged a few times, but he ignored it in favor of getting home. 

Once on the couch, several Chinese containers laid out on the coffee table, he flipped on ESPN. To his surprise, it was live coverage of Ginny at a press conference. He could tell just from her face that something was very wrong. Her eyes were completely dead. Her voice didn’t hold a hint of its usual playfulness. He could tell the words she read weren't her own. The text beneath her read ‘Ginny Baker, First woman in MLB: addresses leaked photos.’

Immediately he pulled out his phone. Thirty google alerts read variations of the same thing. So, he had her on his google alerts. He had the whole team on alert. As captain it was his job to know what was going on in their lives and how it would affect them on the field. 

Clicking on a link, he was almost immediately looking at a photo of her sitting on Davis’s lap. They weren’t particularly racy, but he still felt sick as he continued to scroll. The pictures weren’t that bad by his standards. In fact, if pressed, he would have to say his Rookie looked pretty damn good, but as he read the comments his fists clenched. Narrow-minded hypocrites with the anonymity of the internet to protect them were the worst.

He looked back at the coverage of the press conference, but it was already over. Commentators were already picking apart everything she had said, and showing blurred versions of the pictures. He turned off the television and looked at his dinner. Suddenly, he had lost his appetite.

He thought about calling her. Just checking in. He had been there after he left Rachel. He knew what it was like to be in the middle of a media shit storm, but he wasn’t sure what he could say. He figured she had people she would rather talk to, namely a certain Cardinals catcher. 

Instead, he downed a shot of whiskey and then another, before slowly making his way up the stairs to his bed. He lay there for a long time, trying not to think about a certain rookie before he fell into a fitful night’s sleep.

The next morning he had an appointment with a knee specialists. He was really hoping this one would tell him something different, but no such luck. He could finish the season, maybe one more, but a major reconstructive surgery was in his near future. 

Coming out of the appointment his phone chimed yet another google alert. This time he read both his rookie and his ex-wife’s name in the same line. That couldn’t be a good thing. He clicked on the linked and his jaw tightened as he heard the harsh questions Rachel was hurling at his Rookie. Baker maintained a zen like calm as she answered. He was proud of her. Half the guys on the team would have broken by then, but not Baker. She kept her chin up, even as he could see she was hurting, he doubted anyone else would. Robot Baker was in full force. 

He pulled up to petco, not at all surprised by the media circus. Skip knew he would be late, so he wasn’t worried. He just wanted to hurry up and find Baker. See with his own eyes how she was handling with this whole mess.

As he walked into the clubhouse, something was off. Jimmy wouldn’t meet his eye. Once he was in the tunnel to the locker room, he could hear the skip yelling and started to run. The door to the locker room was open and the sight that met his eyes was sadly not at all surprising, though he was throughly disappointed. 

“If I ever hear about one of you pulling a stunt like this again, you will be on the first bus back to whatever hellhole we found you in faster than you can say TMZ,” Al screamed, his face was blotchy and he was shaking his clipboard rather menacingly at Miller. “Baker is a part of this team and anyone who doesn’t like it, can… well… can get traded, because she’s not going anywhere!” That said Al turned and stormed out of the locker room, tossing a, “Get a hold on your guys, Lawson!” As he passed. 

Lawson could have strangled that punk Miller. Talk was bad enough, but this was something more. He should have come in early to make sure nothing like this happened. He wondered what she had said when she saw it. Maybe, she was still doing press. He hoped she was still doing press. 

“Get this off my walls before Baker shows up,” Mike growled, heading for his own locker. 

“She… a…already… I mean…” Stubs sputtered. 

“She already saw it,” Mike signed, rolling his shoulders. “And?”

“And she a… she…” Shrek started to answer, but it seemed he couldn’t find the words. Instead, he looked away, clearly ashamed. 

“She what?” Mike asked, starting to worry.

“She started taking her clothes off like a total lunatic. She was coming at me like went after the Mountain the other day and then just said she was here to play and she would be on the field,” Miller shrugged, trying to sound like he wasn’t just as ashamed of himself. 

Lawson glared at him. How could they do this after everything Ginny had done to be a part of this team? She had thrown that damn pitch right at Falcone for Miller and this was how he repaid her loyalty. And yet he was proud that she hadn’t broken, even in the face of so much, she had stayed strong. She just kept blowing him away. 

“Just get it off my walls before you come out,” Lawson grumbled. As he walked out onto the field he could see her and Sanders in left field running and he jogged up to join them. 

“I think the old man still has some tricks up his sleeve,” she said unaware that he could hear her. He grinned at her confidence in him. 

“I felt my ears burning, Baker, you sayin’ nice things about me” he teased. 

“Never! Where you been old man? Did you fall outa bed and have to use your life alert?” She joked, even as she picked up speed. 

“Na, I swung by the preschool to pick you up, but they said you got a ride.” If she could laugh in the middle of this shit storm, then so could he. 

The rest of the team came trickling in. Some tried to apologize, but she wouldn’t hear it. She just wanted to practice, and he was happy to go along with her. If, in the back of his mind, he thought about inviting her over for beers that night, it was only in a purely team captain sort of way. Not at all because he to make her laugh again.


End file.
